


Minax: Origin

by MarrowMeister



Series: Codependence [7]
Category: Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: Canon Universe, Character Death, Death, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Marvel Universe, Modern Era, Original Character Death(s), Original Fiction, Other, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarrowMeister/pseuds/MarrowMeister
Summary: This story is how the symbiote now known as Minax acquired their name, and how they bonded to the human known as Liz. Minax lives in the Marvel Universe and was bonded with a host on a planet quite far from Earth. Think of them as an alien humanoid bee. They bonded with a Klyntar and have been together for a handful of solar cycles by this point. This is part of an ongoing series I am developing that will continue into the Convergence run.You can find me on Twitter @MeisterMarrow or Tumblr at MarrowMeister.Minax belongs to @cutesweetcorgo on Twitter.There is art available for all of the symbiote that have been included so far and I would be happy to share.I would love to discuss further plot threads or characterization with any of the symbiotes presented thus far. I promise, this story is going somewhere; thank you for reading.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Codependence [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694629
Kudos: 1





	Minax: Origin

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I'm gonna explain this as simply as I can. There are two universes in this series; 'Our's' and the 'Marvel Universe'. This story takes place in the Marvel Universe, as does the Seethe: Origin.

Minax felt their skin writhe with discomfort; The being acting as a sentient protective organic layer had once been naturally weakened by intense sound, but over time grown nearly immune. High energy noises now did nothing more than inflict a rather intense discomfort upon the alien. The profound buzzing of the hive would likely have been considered overwhelming on an auditory level to most other species but thankfully Andreniformes did not process noise the same way as so many others. The tympanic organs that extended from both of Minax’s arms and legs, not too visually dissimilar to the fins of a Ludberdite, vibrated in reception from the activity surrounding them. Minax felt their ‘skin’ shift in minor discomfort once more; the Klyntar that had bonded to them handfuls of solar cycles ago frequently perturbed during the busiest hours in the hive.

Minax passively chewed on a rather large chunk of wax they had been slowly collecting all day from the flakes on their abdomen, partially to soften it enough to mold and partially as a way to distract themselves from the pollen they craved so deeply. They glanced around the hive briefly, simply absorbing the environment they had chosen to work in. Minax recalled the earlier days of their life when they had been a simple worker like most others, but due to several devastating attacks from neighboring colonies and enough Kree war parties to not be considered accidental, they had been ‘promoted’ to that of the significantly more important soldier. For dozens of solar cycles they fought invasion after invasion, hundreds fell by their hands. The enemy had come to call the one they feared so deeply the name Minax, a title that had become synonymous with danger and threat on the battlefield. Andreniformes did not typically name themselves due to the lack of verbal communication in their species. Communication was a physical endeavor, however through the use of various hand motions and bodily movements inter-species conversation was achievable. Minax did not consider themselves cruel, at least not at first; but battle after battle and kill after kill had begun to change them, to desensitize them. It was not until a relatively recent Kree warship had attempted to destroy their hive and destabilize their society that Minax had come to bond to their other.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The initial attack had been brutal, their weaponry far outclassing that of the hive was only manageable due to the small size of the invading force. Minax had personally lead the special operations team of soldiers, only 6 in total yet each worth more than ten of the best infantry fighters. Minax always remembered the attacks, their actions, and the lives they ended; but it had began to feel as if they were simply a passenger in their own body sometimes. Simply a prisoner to watch as they tore the helpless blue-skinned purebreds apart. The leader had been the first to fall, his overconfidence regarding ‘just a bunch of bugs’ being immediately regretted as his airway swelled shut while he bled out in seconds from the sudden injection of six different genetically modified Andreniformes venom.

Each member of the team with the exception of Minax all having been bred with no other purpose but to fight, to survive, to kill. Their talons fully capable of piercing even the toughest of chitin before injecting a specialized venom unique to each member; each with varying effects of bronchoconstriction all the way to intense anti-coagulation. The others were dispatched quickly, their energy based weaponry barely even able to scorch the abnormally dense carapace of the team. Minax had cornered the last attacker, she appeared young at first glance but the scarring of her face and cracks on her armor indicated battlefield experience. She had sat where a large fragment of the hexagonal hive wall that had been damaged met with the body of the Kree ship. The Kree had been clutching a metallic cylinder tightly while frantically attempting to open it. Minax had placed their foot just over her shin, the differences between their digitigrade legs and Kree plantigrade anatomy more obvious than ever before. The warrior panicked even more so, grasping at every inch of the metallic cylinder as Minax had flexed one of their two large clawed toes just enough to break the skin and scrape across their internal skeleton. The thought of how flawed such anatomy was had crossed Minax’s mind for no more than a second as the Kree screamed loud enough to cause one of the soldiers to flinch before folding their arms together in an attempt to muffle the vibrations against their tympanic organs. Minax remembered pressing their leg down with intense force, snapping the internal skeleton of their enemy and even splintering the wax of the hive structure beneath. The leg had been severed and the invasion force defeated; Minax had grasped the cylinder to examine the contents within. They could not read the Kree language but judging by desperate actions of the woman just moments prior it was some sort of weapon. Minax had peeled one of their talons against the metal, piercing the container. There had been a pause before an ooze of some sort pushed through. It did not appear hostile and at first glance and Minax was unsure how to proceed. The goo had been no larger than Minax’s fist. The creature had then immediately shifted body language, its soft deflated appearance folding in on itself before launching forward and connecting with the very center of Minax’s chest. It quickly spread across their body, its imperceptible color quickly shifting to that of Minax’s own carapace. Within moments Minax’s confusion was replaced with understanding; new memories and experiences that were not their own now cohabiting within their mind. Minax and the symbiote were two entities, but one body.

The squad had returned to the center of the hive after the completion of their mission. Although the soldiers had witnessed the bizarre event of the alien, now known by Minax to be a member of the Klyntar species, semi-forcibly bond itself to their leader there was no need to be concerned about an explanation to the hive chief. The specially bred soldiers were technically alive in every meaning of the word, however due to the breeding purpose and the severe dulling of their empathetic sensations they rarely communicated in any non-combat environment. A full report was always to be given to the chief personally after any encounter with the Kree as they were a significantly larger threat than any neighboring hive had ever been. Unfortunately, it had been discovered that the attack had been nothing more than a distraction designed to occupy the hive’s greatest warriors. Upon returning Minax had been informed that their chief had been assassinated by a lone Kree warrior, presumably a member of the recently defeated invasion force. Minax recalled feelings of grief and frustration, but they had been quickly replaced with anxiety and pride after hundreds of others agreed to follow Minax. They had become the new chief by near unanimous decision. Minax felt a peculiar warmth from within as their newly bonded other had silently communicated with them, both processing the other’s memories and experiences. What would typically take years of delicate communication with another living creature took minutes with the Klyntar. Together they earned the title of chief; they agreed to do whats best for the hive.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The massive hexagonal structures appeared intimidating at first glance; their beautiful golden hue unable to be truly appreciated by any other member of their species due to the fact that their compound eyes had evolved to favor cool colors and the ultraviolet light spectrum rather than the entirety of the ‘visible’ light spectrum that so many other species perceive. Minax however, stared in awe at the magnificence that was so rarely appreciated. The biological cellular augmentation provided by their other provided an endlessly increasing list of benefits they had never even considered. The Klyntar had created a secondary set of ‘eyes’ over their own, a lens of sorts, that allowed them to see so much they could never have before. Minax briefly thought back to how ignorant they had been before their bond, the hundreds of experiences they did not even know they had missed simply because their biology had limited them in ways they could not comprehend. The obviously discomforted wriggle of their other paused for a moment in response to the positive affirmation responding in one of the only ways they could communicate with one another. Minax’s brain practically yelped at the sudden rush of… love? Their relationship was difficult to define, complicated at best. The limitations of the sociability of the Andreniformes species actively conflicting with the inherently emotional bond of a Klyntar. Minax and their other considered themselves to have the most significantly emotional relationship they were capable of.

The thousands of other Andreniformes all performing their assigned jobs flapped their wings at intense speeds and used various plasma spewing tools along with their own natural biology to create a structure equally mixing the modern technology they had cultivated and co-opted from opposing species and hives with their own tried and true methods of simplistic biological secretions. The very structure of the hive a series of hexagonal walls, each holding a unique vibranium core which was then coated with hundreds if not thousands of layers of an naturally synthesized bio-organic wax all Andreniformes excreted over time from a series of abdominal glands and molded by hand. The shape of the structure combined with its incredible density and ability to absorb and redistribute nearly all forms of externally applied energy protected the hive and provided a near continuous source of energy. Minax felt the response from their arms and legs intensify once more, their fin like organs reacting to the vibrations in the air created by sound being the only way members of their species could ‘hear’. The cavernous structure enhanced the what would be deafening sound of buzzing wings and miscellaneous construction as if it were some sort of bizarre geometric echo chamber, but the racket was wasted on ‘deaf’ ears.

Minax continued chewing on the wax, placing another handful of small flakes into their mouth and increasing the size of the ball into something almost too big to chew; wanting nothing more than to shove handfuls of pollen into their mouth. They had developed almost a sort of addiction to the substance and had been slowly trying to mitigate it. The cravings, although ultimately harmless, were an unhealthy coping mechanism Minax had found themselves developing after the intense disassociation that had formed from their constant battles. Minax finally decided to spit out the ball they had been chewing on much longer than they should have been; holding the malleable substance in their four taloned hand for a few moments and carving a small triangular shape followed by an oval below it. The design meant nothing to them, at least not consciously, and they pressed the ball against the wall just beside them. Minax smeared the wax for another few seconds, evening it out until the newly placed vibranium wall held a small but noticeable spot of the substance that would soon encompass its entirety. The wall would soon be fully complete following a recent expansion Minax had ordered as chief. The previous chief had been very conservative regarding the hive’s military, but having seen what such a thing caused firsthand Minax wanted to encourage a robust defensive force so the hive would no longer have to rely on luck.

Minax had no obligation to work in the hive, being both the leader and such a central pillar to their special operations meant that unless there was an attack they were encouraged to relax. Minax felt that it was important to be seen as more than just a leader by the other members of the hive but they also felt the manual labor was important to the betterment of the hive.

Minax twirled their antennae in an outwardly absentminded appearance, appearing physically distracted to any onlooker when in reality they had entered a deep meditative state that allowed them to communicate in a sense with their other. Minax and their Klyntar could not speak to one another, not in the traditional sense. They simply exchanged emotions and memories, even physical movements when they just can’t quite get it right. Minax had initially begun to connect to their Klyntar when they slept. It was a jarring experience at first as they had never encountered the concept of ‘dreaming’ before. Their other had shown them memories from their home planet and experiences of their previous hosts. The Kree had occasionally forced a bond after chemically sedating the Klyntar in order to gain an advantage over their enemies. Minax had liberated them from their cyclical torturous experiences and the Klyntar wanted nothing more than to share its gratification. The emotional outburst from the Klyntar combined with the socially stoic nature of Andreniformes caused them both to discover parts of themseleves they had never encountered before. Minax had never encountered even conceived the concept of ‘love’ yet they knew they loved their other without hesitation. Their meditative encounters were the Klyntar’s favorite part of their bond; there was nothing else in existence during those moments than just the two of them. The Klyntar tightened against Minax’s carapace, never wanting to let go.

The telepathic connection between the two severed just as fast as it had been established as Minax found themselves back in control of their body. The tympanic organs on both their arms and legs violently reported to Minax’s brain that whatever was going on, it was loud. Minax quickly turned their head, searching for the source of what was happening an intense force nearly knocked them to their side. They regained their balance and turned to the direction their sound receiving organs informed them of. Minax felt a sensation they had not encountered in many solar cycles. A sensation they didn’t even know they were capable of experiencing anymore. Minax felt fear.

Two of the gargantuan hexagonal plates and a large partially destroyed fragment that made up the internal walls of the hive had collapsed inward towards the center of the dome surrounding them. Hundreds of Andreniformes had been caught beneath the plates, the lucky ones killed on impact. Minax rushed forward and threw themselves into the air in an effort to get closer to the source of the explosion. Their bright yellow wings flapping at intense speeds in order to push them through the air as fast as possible. They landed just in front of a broken portion of the destroyed ceiling plate, several dead surrounding them along with the thick clear liquid that served as the equivalent of their blood splashed unevenly across the hive floor. Minax felt their tympanic organs recoil once more as they turned towards the new source of danger. Another massive hexagonal wall had been blown inwards, this time with what appeared to be hundreds if not thousands of aggressors pouring in. An invasion force… an army.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a moment, a solitary slice of time, where Minax felt the very slightest tug of fear and panic from the outermost edges of their psyche. Minax almost paused to question if the feelings were their own or their other’s, but it mattered not. Minax stared as the opposing army poured in by the hundreds without a single obstacle before them. The massive creatures were a neighboring species that shared the planet, their culture and livelihoods ever so slightly different than their own; but just enough to form a minute resentment between the two groups. They had skirmished over the centuries of solar cycles passed but had only ever encountered one another en masse on the battlefield just 75 cycles ago. Minax was younger then, still an experienced soldier in a sense but nowhere near the force of nature they had become. The Klyntar goo shifted, as if in agreement or encouragement.

Minax quickly looked down at the fallen innocents around them, so many dead and so many dying. The constant shifting and reactions of their sound receptive organs told Minax of the chaos around them before they had even turned their head. Without another moment of hesitation Minax flexed their hands, a hesitation they rarely encountered that was only reinforced by the encroaching sensation of a familiar craving. The snack that had once been a comfort as a youngling turned into a reminder that even the most capable of warriors was limited by the stresses of the mind. Minax quickly shook their head, snapping out of a dissociative daze that had just begun to take hold. Minax felt the peculiar sensation of their forearms responding to an external stimulus, another explosion, another breach point. They flapped their wings once more, slowly for only a second before pushing themself harder and harder. Minax soard into the air, their dense exoskeleton easily carried by their powerful wings. They surveyed the skies for no longer than second before throwing themself forward towards the first entry point they had seen just minutes earlier.

Minax landed with a thud, a thud that mot a single soul on the battlefield could hear but all could feel. A pseudo-coalition of manpower had already begun to form; the more experienced soldiers doing their best to prepare the innocents for battle. There was nowhere to hide and nowhere to escape to, this was their home and they needed to defend it. Minax quickly approached the small force taking cover behind a fragment of the wall the enemy had used to break in. Plasma energy soared in all directions, some workers and soldiers using repurposed construction machinery while others military issued weapons. Minax peeked over the edge of their cover as the soldier beside them silently displayed the most basic crash course of defense and offense they could. The fellow Andreniforme pointed aggressively towards the enemy and then back to several places on their own body, most likely informing the nearly helpless citizens of the weakest portions of the enemy’s carapace. Minax inhaled and exhaled deeply, the second mind within their own having been silent the entire time but finally shifting in excitement. It had been a long time since the pair had truly had an opportunity to let loose, to show the others how exactly they had earned their name.

Minax felt a sudden and alerting shift of their forearms and calves along with an intense informative tug from their other; the Klyntar having finally readied itself to work in tandem with Minax. They whipped their head to their right, just passed the edge of the safety they cowered behind. A somewhat large cube, just barely bigger than the entirety of their foot had landed aggressively. It rolled over once from the momentum it carried before pulsing strongly with a blue light and a heat just warm enough to make Minax’s other twitch. Without hesitation they launched themself from their sitting position and in a single motion grasped the cube, their claws threatening to break the encasement as the blue energy surrounding it singed away the previously imperceptible goo layer. Minax felt the goo nearly cry in pain from the heat as it retreated from the energy. Continuing the momentum they had gained as they grabbed the cube they tossed it with great force towards the bulk of the enemy. Minax landed on the ground of the hive, no more than two body lengths from where they had been previously yet now completely exposed to enemy fire. Their other had already reformed over the carapace it had retreated from, their Klyntar visibly identical to what lay beneath. Minax rolled over, pushing their arms into the wax ground they had been laying on just as a peculiar sensation they had only encountered twice before occurred. It was as if every ounce of heat was sucked away from the surrounding area, the previously soft wax now instantly hard as a rock. Their own body momentarily stunned from the change yet almost instantly corrected by the sentient space ooze they loved so dearly. Minax understood what came next and braced, the entirety of the last few seconds already beginning to replay over in their mind as they forcefully shooed the newly formed memories away.

Minax tensed quickly as a sudden rush of heat enveloped them, remelting the wax they laid on enough to sink maybe a half talon’s length. The wave of heat was nearly instantly accompanied by a familiar blue light. Minax relaxed as the blue light bathed the area, already realizing they had over-prepared themself for the blast before forcing themself to stand. Minax could instantly tell where the weapon had landed, a massive crater surrounded by the ashy silhouettes of the soldiers that had stood there. Their bodies vaporized but their shadows remained. Minax felt frustration within themself, recognizing the bomb as Kree technology; they mentally put together that either the Kree had organized and supplied the invading Vespa army or they had somehow managed to acquire great sums of powerful Kree weaponry. It did not matter, the only thing that mattered was Minax’s people. The explosion had disorganized the untrained enemy for a few moments, just long enough for handfuls of Andreniforme soldiers and their poorly armed backup to push forward and begin an offensive maneuver. Minax squinted as their vision adjusted automatically with the aid of their other, allowing them to see at great distances and survey the newly formed battlefield. Large swathes of Vespa continued to push through the damaged walls but in a significantly slower rate than before. They were running out of units.

Minax leaned forward and began to sprint, the air around them growing warmer with every step as they approached the brunt of the enemy force. The sheer speed at which they ran put even the most well bred of super soldiers to shame. They had spent dozens of solar cycles hiding the limits of their abilities. The others did not know of the bond between Minax and their symbiotic lover and they chose to keep such a secret hidden away. There was no need to hide anymore, no need to be tame, no need to stifle the aggression they held and the brutality they wished to unleash. Minax jumped into the air, the ground beneath splintering from such force. They soared for no longer than a few seconds before landing just behind the enemy front-line. There was no time to be wasted, no preparation, no need to think. Minax threw themself forward to the nearest Vespa soldier.

The Vespa were physically similar to the Andreniformes and neighboring species. In all likelihood they shared a common ancestor but after millennia of evolutionary changes from their different environments and lifestyles they had come to differ just enough to form their respective societies and borders. There was occasional interaction between species on their planet; an exchange of foods, resources, gifts etc. Unfortunately these communications grew rarer and even began to devolve into attacks. The Vespa were typically larger than the Andreniformes, nearly a thirty percent larger on average. Their carapace a deep and bold orange in comparison to the soft and bright yellow of the Andreniformes. There were handfuls of additional physical differences but the real issues stemmed from their cultures. Both had a central hive structure from which they lived out of, however rather than focus on self sustainable techniques of resource generation and inter-species trading; the Vespa had grown to learn that they could sustain themselves through the pillaging of others. They were capable of generating their own resources, their species even held some of the greatest minds on the planet; unfortunately they had found a desire to focus on the creation of advanced weaponry and devastating technology. Interestingly enough, although their species typically dealt with some of the most destructive tools on the planet, they had never chosen to develop nearly any sort of tactics or proper formation of their forces. The Vespa crushed nearly all who opposed them through sheer force alone, but it was always a disorganized force; said lack of proper stratagem is the very reason the Andreniformes had defeated them over the years. What the Andreniformes lacked in numbers or force, they made up for with proper planning. All of that was meaningless however when the enemy force attacked unprovoked on home turf; no warning, no plans, no survival.

Minax gripped the forearm of the Vespa before them, its orange carapace splintered just around the leftmost large eye. The enemy threw its opposing arm down towards Minax’s shoulder, the sheer force would have collapsed the chitin of any other member of Minax’s species but had barely produced enough energy for Minax to even notice. The enemy’s arm cracked and snapped open from their attack, the entirety of the produced energy taking the path of least resistance and recoiling back into its source. The Vespa shifted its eyes in a panic, realizing within a single second that its life would come to an end. Minax obliged and gripped the forarm they held tighter, completely crushing the carapace just as they pushed it forward to separate it in nearly the same place as the other arm. In a single motion Minax used the now severed arm as a makeshift piercing weapon and forced it through the Vespa’s chest. A mostly translucent yet slightly yellow liquid exploded outward and poured from where the arms had been just moments before. The Vespa began to collapse and before its legs had even fully buckled Minax had already decapitated another by pulling on its antennae so hard the whole head came with it. Dozens continued to pile on to Minax, initially those with plasma stingers choosing not to fire out of fear of hitting their own. These feelings were quickly dissuaded as Minax forced one Vespa’s arm into an uncomfortable direction that caused it to fire into itself. The distracting scent of burning chitin began to overtake the previous sickly sweet honey like smell.

Minax felt a screech from within their mind just as they smelled their own carapace burn. Their other continued to protect them, only retreating for seconds at a time as the enemy broke down into disorganized shooting; it was clear they had lost all focus and wanted nothing more than to kill the THREAT before them by any means necessary. “GOOD.” Minax thought as their other silently agreed, partially distracted by its own pain as it struggled to protect its host. Minax felt the uncertainty from their other, they had never been hurt to this extent. The very beginnings of that pesky feeling began to settle within Minax’s very core. Minax reflexively grasped their shoulder in shock as a plasma bolt exploded into their carapace with just enough force to crack the chitin and injure the sentient protective layer above. Minax had never felt pain before, they could not even conceive such a feeling; until they bonded with their other. The Klyntar shared new sensations, new abilities, even new memories with Minax. Members of the Andreniform species could not feel pain but they knew what the sensation was. They watched as other species experienced such a horrible feeling, watched as they feared it. Minax felt the Klyntar’s pain in this moment. It was distant, almost confusing, yet their mind told them that is what the sensation was. Minax did not like it. Minax wanted it to stop.

Minax tore into another Vespa, biting right through its neck and partially severing its head. The soldier collapsed as Minax pushed forward towards the breach in the hive. They feared they would perish if they remained where they were. The Vespa continued to push past them, perhaps in an effort to advance further into the hive or perhaps due to watching as any who approached the Andreniforme threat within the crowd would lose its life in a brutal and aggressive manner. Minax threw a hand out and grasped the massive black wing of the orange Vespa before them, it began to raise its firearm but Minax had already severed the soldier’s top half from its bottom. There was a single moment of intrigue as Minax processed what had happened. The entirety of their right arm had been replaced with that of a deep black blade; the sharpest part of which interestingly the same bright yellow of their own body. The blade retreated from view as Minax felt themself understand what the living ooze had just done for them. They had never needed such a weapon before and even their other had yet to fully explore the lengths of their abilities.

Klyntar were natural shapeshifters but rarely had the opportunity to test the very extent of their abilities. Each member of the species had a nearly identical list of abilities with the exception of handfuls who could just do a little bit more. As a species they had come to understand that most symbiotes could push themselves to different levels but there was still a natural aptitude for certain abilities. Some were significantly more capable at the natural reproduction of their cells which allowed an impressive shapeshifting prowess; others simply felt that the manipulation or interconnection of a host’s brain to their own thoughts a naturally easy experience. Minax’s other was on the younger side of their species but age held little significance. Their species was practically biologically immortal, limited only by the extent of their hosts abilities. Minax’s other had simply never found a reason to push itself to any sort of limit due to the repeated forceful bonding with previous Kree warriors.

Minax inhaled deeply, the intense scents of the sweet honey like air they had breathed since their hatching and the nauseating smell of burning chitin and boiling blood now fading away to an almost clean emptiness. Minax had been outside the hive a handful of times, it never ceased to impress them and still did even as they tore through another Vespa soldier. Minax turned towards the direction they had come from, the path they had walked filled with the bodies of those they had defeated. Minax felt their other warn them of danger just as an aggressive force took them by surprise. They tumbled to the ground, landing on their back just as a rather large Vespa soldier with a semi-distinctive black stripe across its orange face pushed towards Minax without hesitation. Minax leaned forward in an attempt to get up yet just as quickly as they had fallen the enemy soldier approached them and pressed its own foot unto Minax’s bare abdomen. Minax felt their other began to tense around the area just as the Vespa pushed downwards.

Minax felt nothing, but also felt that something was wrong. Minax felt… vulnerable. They stared at the leg of the enemy before them, only half of its digitigrade ankle visible. Minax felt their other shift wildly as they finally understood what had happened. The peculiar and nearly indescribable scent of the clear liquid that functioned as Andreniforme blood oozed out into a puddle surrounding their body. The Vespa shifted its foot for a moment before pulling upwards, bringing Minax’s body with it for a few inches before the pressure released and it collapsed back down to the ground. If Minax could scream, they would have. They did not fear death, they only feared leaving the one they loved alone. Minax felt the cool sensation of the inner liquid pooling around their midsection as their other mentally tugged as hard as it could to keep Minax from feinting. Minax watched as the Vespa that had assaulted them walked away; its job complete and its prey defeated. The Klyntar felt Minax’s consciousness slip away, its host still alive but damaged beyond anything that could be fixed quickly. Minax’s other began to work slowly and carefully, knowing full well it would have to use the mass and energy of its own body in order to save their host from the grasp of death. As Minax grew closer to the world of the living, their other grew weaker; waiting in deep anticipation of some sort of rescue but knowing that the imminent destruction of their hive and home could easily mean they would both perish in the wasteland just outside safety.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The sound receptive organs on Minax’s forearms twitched. Their second skin shifted immediately in response surging its own consciousness into full alert as they attempted to probe their host’s mind. It was the very first sign of movement, of life, since their attacker had completely devastated their host’s body. The gargantuan Vespa had completely collapsed the lower abdominal area of Minax’s body and their other feared the worst. As capable as the Klyntar were at manipulating a host lifeform’s biological and genetic structure, it was still a skill that some were significantly better at than others. The symbiote had spent nearly every ounce of its own mass and what their host could spare in order to keep them alive. There was of course a sense of self preservation, a Klyntar could not live too long without a host; but it was more than that. They had grown nearly inseparable on both physical and emotional levels over the solar cycles. Minax’s abdominal cavity was still partially exposed, their exoskeleton having only partially begun to reform over the wound. There was a paper-thin membrane connecting the space and a pale splintered series of fragments that appeared to be connecting with one another; the exoskeleton was no something their species was ever meant to regrow. It was their armor, but also the very shell that gave them life. There were no second chances for an Andreniform, Vespa, or any brotherly species of their planet. Their greatest strength of a natural durable armor was also their greatest weakness.

Minax’s tympanic organs twitched once more, this time both forearms and one leg. Their other attempted to probe the consciousness they had grown so close to once more. There were no coherent thoughts, at least not yet. A vague sense of thirst paired with a peculiar craving their host had grown so unhealthily attached to lingered among the slowly waking neurons. The symbiote was an entirely separate living organism from their host with its own biological needs; needs that it felt more reminded of than ever at this moment. The goo could alter its own mass, a sort of ball of sentient cells with the ability to replicate at incredible speeds and grow into an ever growing series of branching cells each with their own function. With a whim the symbiote could force its outermost layer to develop millions of chromatophores which would instantly camouflage the creature and its host below. They could alter their own texture, form entirely new organs, supplement lost cells, and then just as easily cannibalize the unused cells for the nutrients they held in order to repurposed and recycle the previously used mass… but even with all of that the Klyntar were not infinite, they still required sustenance which was typically supplied by their host; Whether that be from the host’s body itself like some sort of parasite as some of the more twisted and mentally unhinged chose to do, or by simply skimming some nutrients off of each meal their host consumed. The severe damage that had been inflicted unto their host would have been more than enough for any other member of their species to abandon the body for another; but Minax was more than simply a vehicle for their own needs. Minax was a partner, an equal, and the symbiote pulled against a deep seated biological sensation that had spent millions of years preventing their species from reaching extinction. The symbiote held on, it cannibalized its own body in order to give their host just a little bit more time. The chance to be rescued. The symbiote was barely larger than Minax’s fist now. They had sacrificed nearly every tool of survival they could in order to sustain Minax; the Klyntar had lost its ability to see, to smell, to hear.

Minax’s tympanic organs began to twitch in some sort of pattern, as if to the rhythm of walking. The symbiote could only imagine they were still laying just outside the Hive, maybe it was a rescue party or maybe it was a troupe of Vespa coming to finish the job. The feather like structures of their arms and legs naturally sensed the vibrations of whoever was approaching them and the Klyntar tensed its minuscule body unsure of what would come next.

Minax flexed their hand, the sensation was dull and their talons felt foreign; as if there was some sort of disconnect between the sensation and what was actually processed in their brain. They opened their eyes slowly, the colorful vision they had thoughtlessly enjoyed for so many solar cycles now replaced by the soft ultraviolet blue their species naturally saw. Everything felt wrong, it felt different; the air around them tasted sterile and the strength they had once held was nowhere to be found. They shifted their hand and slowly brought it towards their abdomen. They had been resting supine on a table of some kind but the architecture of the ceiling they stared at appeared completely different from anything they had seen before. It was certainly not Kree, and most definitely not Skrull… perhaps Xandarian? It did not matter. Their forearms twitched once more just as they brought their talon towards the source of peculiar numbness in their midsection, the void of sensation.

”I would not do that if I were you.” a voice spoke from just out of Minax’s view.

It did not matter, the noise fell on deaf ears… well, lack of ears. Minax’s forearms twitched in response to the voice for what seemed like the dozenth time and they continued to ignore it. They continued to stare upwards, not sure if they had the strength to turn their head and truly survey the room. Minax weakly prodded the center of where they could not feel, a whirlpool of emotions that felt completely external from their own thoughts screamed not to. The tissue bent inwards from the ever so delicate pressure. The fragile membrane threatened to rupture just as Minax felt their hand pulled away. The grip was tight, but not threatening. The voice spoke once more, likely not knowing the creature it was directed at had no sense of hearing beyond that of ‘feeling’ sounds.

“It’s still healing, and we really think you should let it. You’re probably confused but we want you to know you’re safe. We found you practically rotting away on the outskirts of some battlefield we went to go scavenge for parts and maybe a meal or two. Ro started acting up when we passed by you and when we decided to look, imagine our surprise that you were not only alive but one of _**Us**_.” The voice was calm but had a bizarre emphasis on enunciation, as if every single consonant and vowel needed to be explicitly heard.

The source of said voice stood tall, but not particularly massive. Its deep charcoal torso spotted with mustard yellow spatter spreading from their sternum to their shoulders. Their diamond shaped head held two lightning bolt shaped opaque white eye lenses and each corner of their mouth lead into a thick yellow horn like structure extending just passed their temples on both sides before shifting to a cool blue just before their tips. Their arms… well the larger of the two pairs and the only ones attached to their shoulders like most species shifted from the deep charcoal of the torso to the same cool blue of the tip of each horn. each hand held three large talons that were structurally not too different from Minax’s own but somewhere carried a slightly more threatening aura, as if the one who owned them would not hesitate to attack. The second pair of arms were significantly smaller and joined the creature’s body just below the pectorals and right on the mid-axillary; they held eachother in a passive and nonthreatening relaxed manner, both the same blue as the other hands with the same number of fingers yet without the talons. Just below the second set of arms, at the end of the torso and where the waist would have begun on most bipedal species is where the real differences began. The charcoal skin shifted over a short gradient into the same mustard yellow from the chest and continued along for almost three times the lenght of the torso, two bright blue short pointed legs on each side at the beginning of each segment of the body. The mustard yellow of the body continued along all the way to the end, turning significantly brighter and matching the base of their horns about halfway along. Just above each pair of legs and at the beginning of each segment was an asymmetric patch of charcoal that matched the creature’s torso. They stood over Minax’s body, one of their hands gripped loosely by Centi’s own.

“Either you’re choosing not to listen to me, in which case we are going to have a problem; or you’re… deaf. How peculiar, I don’t recall ever encountering one of us who has ever willingly chosen a damaged host let alone one willing to die for them.” Centi squinted, their lightning bolt lenses flexing in a way that completely reflected their feelings.

Minax tugged weakly from whatever was holding them and opened their eyes once more. Their sound receptive organs moved in response to what Minax could only assume was someone talking and they pushed themself to turn their head. The sight of such a foreign creature shocked them in a way they had not felt in a very very long time. It was certainly no species they had ever encountered, but whatever it was clearly chose to save them rather than let them die.

“Well, we didn’t want to bother doing this until we knew for sure you weren’t completely brain-dead but now that you’re awake and clearly confused it’s time.” Centi moved forward to close the remaining distance between the two, each leg moving in a bizarre rhythmic manner just enough for Centi to be able to grasp Minax’s other arm.

Minax considered fighting but knew it would be futile and had no strength left to muster. Their swirling jumble of memories seemed to be reorganizing themselves at a snails pace but one in particular pushed its way to the forefront. Minax knew what was wrong, why everything felt so twisted and messy. Their other half, their beloved… was silent. A moment of panic set in as Minax realized how alone they felt in that moment. A sensation they had not truly experienced since before bonding and one they hoped they would never feel again. Minax had no way of knowing if the Klyntar was dead, if they were separated, no idea of knowing what had happened. All they knew at this moment was that they felt weak, weaker than they ever had before, and alone. The pressure around their arms irritated their tympanic organs, they were not supposed to be touched and did not handle tactile contact with grace. Minax blinked hard once more and locked eyes with their captor.

“Ahh, there you are.” Centi said to themselves almost playfully as the one they were trying to hard to help squirmed. The communication barrier between the two causing more than enough frustration to have made almost any caregiver angry.   
”Hold. Still. We’re just trying to help your other, so that they can help you.” Centi allowed their own symbiote to search for their guest’s.

Centi felt their other writhe and wiggle as part of it crawled along Minax’s arms and towards where their other had been laying practically dormant. Without a sound, they connected and both Minax and their other finally understood. It was a psychic handshake of sorts, no more information shared between the two than what each was willing to give yet more than enough to understand one another.

Minax felt the nightmarish thought of a future of solitude drift away as their consciousness reconnected with their other’s. Their exoskeleton slowly re-enveloped by the symbiote they trusted so deeply. The deep blues from the biological limitations of their sight now replaced with the full visible light spectrum so many other species saw. Minax knew they were anything but fully healed, yet leaps and bounds further than where they had been just moments ago. Minax could only assume that the one known as Centi had shared some of its own healthy mass in an effort to reinvigorate they who danced at Death’s door. Minax brought their hand back to their abdomen once more, and with extreme delicacy ever so carefully slid the rounded topside of their talon across the area. Their exoskeleton was far from reformed and a fist sized area still lay completely exposed to anything more than a light push, but they were at least able to stand. Minax looked towards their savior and excitedly signed with their hand. The shapes and motions would have appeared completely meaningless and foreign to any living creature that had not been educated in the Hive they were raised in, yet surprisingly Centi nodded with a wide grin.

“We’re so glad you’re feeling better, perh-” Centi cut themselves off as they watched Minax turn their head in minor confusion.   
”Oh that’s right.” Centi held up one of their hands and began to sign and motion to each word they spoke in a language they had not even conceived existed until just moments ago. The motions were that of a novice but Minax was more than capable of understanding.  
”Name C. E. N. T. I.-” the hand gestures continued.   
”We are same, both two become one.” The nuance of language and specificity of communication Centi so fondly focused on was lost in this simplistic series of gestures. A nuisance to be sure but one that is easily overcome.  
”You hurt, we save.” Centi continued as Minax nodded aggressively with newfound energy.   
”Space ship now. Two more here.” As if to accentuate that point a rumbling echoed from down the hallway just outside the infirmary they stood in.

Minax reflexively crouched but knew there was nothing they could do if they were attacked. They watched as Centi’s face held a clearly exasperated expression as they turned towards the door, the quiet pitter patter of their many legs causing the slightest responsive twitch of the feather like organs attached to both of Minax’s calves.

The offender stood in the door-frame, larger than the entrance to the room itself. His steel blue body absolutely rippling with muscle and a sheer aura of power. His head was long and wide, a large white splash of color on both sides. Each white segment held two eyes, one just in front of the other and ever so slightly larger. Each of the creature’s eyes held a deep orange sclera, pale yellow iris, and bright red slitted pupil. The eyes darted around the room, every movement individual from another eye, as if he was scanning his entire environment constantly. His mouth was massive, taking up most of his head and extending just passed his eyes. A long azure blue tongue dangled from between two massive frontal fangs only a slightly deeper hue than the steel grey and blue pseudo skin that covered every visible inch of the entity. The tongue interestingly split about three quarters of the way along before reforming just before its end, giving a sort of diamond like hole in its otherwise standard structure. The creature’s beefy pectoral muscles were each flanked by a pair of arms. The upper pair were significantly larger than the lower but both appeared more than capable of inflicting any destruction he so wanted. The arms had biceps larger than Minax’s head and each hand appeared to have four fingers and an opposable thumb. The creature’s fingers were each capped with an opaque jet black nail that were pointed into claws. The intruder’s legs were just as muscular as the rest of its body and structured in a digitigrade manner just as Minax’s own were. He had three toes each with a long black claw attached to them that dug into the ground they stood on.

The monster clutched the upper threshold of the door-way and ducked inside. He quickly approached Centi and without hesitation grasped the entire circumference of his waist. Minax mentally debated attempting to intervene but the tired look on Centi’s face indicated that this was not particularly out of the norm for their interactions.   
”Ro appears to be disturbed slightly more than usual” the massive creature spoke, their voice a slight contrast to their massive form and hulking body. Its surprising eloquence and only moderate deepness not quite reflective of the intensity the monster gave off.   
”Think Ro is hungry, don’t know for sure, can never understand the thing.”

The description seemed to have caused an immediate reaction from Centi; Minax watched as the alien flinched in some sort of combination between discomfort and frustration yet was completely oblivious to the exchange the two were having. It was clear they were speaking as Minax could feel the air displacement but was mildly discontent at being out of the proverbial loop. They were not used to being surrounded by auditory based creatures; the very concept of a language based on verbal speech rather than body language and hand signals felt so foreign and bizarre. The only exposure they really had with such a concept was whenever their colony had discussed trades with visiting Kree or other species, and even then the communication had been an almost entirely nonverbal simple exchange of goods. Centi had been discussing something with the large greyish blue creature, their body language appeared mildly distressed and occasionally shifted to mildly defensive as the big one pointed aggressively towards Minax’s weakened form. Centi held up both of their larger hands with open palms before lowering their head for just a moment which Minax took as a signal they had lost some sort of argument. Centi turned around, a rather non-graceful motion that required a small circle of movement and dozens of quiet ‘pitterpatters’ of their legs. They quickly made eye contact with Minax as the large creature hovered behind them, its eyes still wildly darting around while its head occasionally twitched and gave off a vibe of nigh total instability. Centi held up their upper left hand and began to sign in communication as they spoke once more.   
”This name V. U. L. T. U. R. E. He-” there was a long pause as Centi quickly glanced backwards and then right back to Minax.   
”He friend. Other here too. Name R. O.” Centi stopped for a moment as they quickly pondered the most efficient way to explain the entirety of the situation. Their newfound grasp on such an atypical language still requiring unfamiliar hand movements that slowed and distorted the exactness of speech Centi cared for so deeply.   
”We go back home.” Centi continued, watching as Minax carefully eyed each subtle movement of Centi’s few fingers.

“THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG AND WE ARE NOT CREATURES OF PATIENCE” Vulture spoke with incredible volume, not quite yelling but certainly speaking loud enough to cause Minax to reflexively stabilize the tympanic membranes of their forearms. Vulture stomped forwards, pushing Centi out of the way with enough force for their legs to scrape along the metallic floor of the room they stood in but not quite enough to throw them. Minax practically fell over in surprise but felt an intense pressure as Vultures massive upper arms clutched their already frail carapace. The giant bent over and pressed his massive forehead against Minax’s own skull with little grace.

A massive flood of memories and experiences deluged into the bee creature’s mind. The concept was no different than what had occurred between Minax and Centi just minutes prior; unfortunately there was no grace, no tact at all within this exchange. Minax felt waves of confusion, nausea, and anger burst across the mind of both themselves and their other as the giant attempted to force everything it could muster into the frail Andreniforme’s memory banks. As if a lightswitch had been flicked, the high pressure hosing of experiences ceased as Vulture was pulled away by a suddenly reoriented Centi. The disturbance lingered with Minax’s mind, their very life now partially and carelessly melded with that of another they knew nothin- _had_ known nothing about. Minax understood, not _everything_ , but certainly more than enough to know that those who had rescued their dying body and brought them slowly back to a semblance of health were not part of some long term deception.

Vulture had avoided dipping into their own origins but Minax must have subconsciously pried into the some of the more private information the giant had held. They had learned of the fact that Centi, Vulture, and Ro had been part of some sort of tactical retrieval team from the planet Klyntar; a planet Minax had passing familiarity with due to their other’s partial memories of their earlier life before being captured and at a relatively young age to be used as a last resort makeshift weapon by the invading Kree warriors. Minax had also, whether by accident or on purpose, learned that whatever creatures Vulture and Centi had once called a host had been functionally braindead for many a solar cycle. Their initial reaction was concern that bordered on fear but the lack of sinister emotions from either Vulture or Centi’s psychic sharing had lead Minax to believe their hosts had been eliminated for good reason. Minax quickly understood the bizarre familiarity they felt linger at the very edges of their and their other’s minds; The psychic web so many Klyntarians clung to throughout their development had been severed at such a young age for Minax’s other that they had become an outsider to their own species. Interestingly this had been supplemented by Minax’s own hive which allowed both to quickly comprehend a system neither had been part of. The final symbiote they had yet to encounter had only been partially slipped into their mind. Both Centi and Vulture had been closely associated with Ro, unfortunately that experience did not last forever. Centi was clearly not a fighter, they valued intelligence and communication above all else. The team they were part of was assigned to do nothing more than set out in an effort to educate, inform, and bear peace to other advanced sentient species. The Klyntar were not an extremely highly regarded species due to their reliance on others and a handful of notable incidents with high profile space faring civilizations. Vulture had his uses but was never the most psychologically stable to begin with, he had only been assigned to Centi’s squadron due to the fact that they were one of the only ones who could diffuse his irrationality that had only been further exaggerated by the initial psychosis of his host prior to the apparent lobotomization. The third and final member of the group was a Klyntar named Ro. Vulture’s memories hid an underlying tone of respect but also fear for the creature. They had met shortly after the initial departure of their inquisition on a gladiatorial world of some kind they had learned was named Sakaar, a disturbing and unforgiving planet that had been the only rock with sentient life within the entirety of the Tayo star system. They had found Ro forcibly bonded to one of the arena champions; a borderline sociopathic Korbinite that had killed hundreds of innocent prisoners within the fighting ring. Vulture had entered himself against Ro in the arena and in sheer anger and disgust for the very concept of using one of their own as nothing more than a weapon, he had forcibly torn Ro from the Korbinite’s body before absconding with Centi in an attempt to resuscitate any possibility of mental recovery in the poor creature.

Minax raised a hand and quickly signed to both Centi and Vulture, their hands moving with significantly more ease than Centi had managed due to the years of practice they had accrued. Vulture smiled; an initially unsettling sight as their pseudo-synthetic teeth greatly exaggerated the grin yet revealed nothing of the species beneath the symbiote. Minax lurched forward and motioned forwards, signaling both to their understanding of the haste required to check up on the one known as Ro.

The ship did not have a particularly confusing layout but its architecture was significantly different from both the hive Minax had spent their entire life in or any ship they had seen from Kree invaders. The trio approached a semicircular door and Minax instantly found confirmation of a fleeting thought they had from earlier. Minax was not the most informed being when it came to other sentient species within the cosmos, but the symbol that appeared to be perfectly centered upon the door was one that was nearly unmistakable for almost any form of sentient life that had any encounter with interplanetary politics. Three equally sized circles sat in the formation of an inverted triangle, the bottom circle connecting to the two tops ones with a single line about the size of the radius of each circle. Minax couldn’t help but feel momentary respect paired perfectly with some fear at the idea of flying around in some stolen Xandarian Nova Corp Centurion private ship.

The door opened, the semicircle sinking into the floor below with a nearly inaudible ‘whoosh’, revealing a moderate sized translucent canister flanked by miscellaneous crates and devices. Minax considered that it must have been some kind of storage room.

Centi turned towards Minax and signed out carefully. “Storage room. Ro here.”

Vulture approached the canister quickly, extending the finger of one of his smaller hands and tapping the opaque black nail to the cylinder. Centi scuttled with haste towards the container and grasped it from the precarious position it had been placed in by its last visitor. Minax couldn’t help but feel curiosity, their second skin inching forward without response as if its very mass was magnetized towards what sat within the container. Minax stepped forward, acutely aware of their damaged carapace and the vulnerability they felt may never go away. Vulture visibly extended a hand in a grasping motion a few inches before catching himself, not wanting to appear what he considered to be emotionally vulnerable. Centi held the canister in one of their larger hands, trembling for only a fraction of a second from what Minax could only assume was emotional distress from having encountered the life Ro had been forced into. Minax cautiously wrapped their fingers over the container and brought it closer to their eye lenses; the photoreceptors within their Andreniforme brain unable to process the colors before them into anything more than varying hues of ultraviolet blue. It appeared to be made of some sort of translucent material that allowed anyone to view what lay within. Both ends of the canister were an incredibly reflective silver, only one end having some sort of opening that appeared to be a simplistic twist lock mechanism.

Ro oozed within the container, a spacious contraption with more than enough room for two; Their form lacking any real sort of cohesion or structure, as if the fractured mind within could just barely keep itself from dissolving into nothingness. Its body roughly three separate colors consisting of an avocado like green that was splattered in small pools across the goo’s body, a rather bold black that was just one step less empty than the space they traveled through, and an ocean like cyan that appeared with the least frequency throughout Ro’s amorphous body as thin non-uniform strands. Minax could feel their other attempt to reach out with its newly learned low-level psychic skills, there was nothing but confused rage trapped in a writhing chaotic mind and a hostless body with nowhere to go.

Vulture stared intently at both the canister and their new guest. He turned his head towards Centi before feeling a mildly incoherent discomfort begin to bubble just beneath his current thoughts. The giant was well aware of his instability and hated it more than he could express. He felt frustration over and over at his lack of control and the fear that it would control him for the entirety of his life. Klyntar were considered nearly biologically immortal so long as they could find a host of equal longevity and compatibility; unfortunately the tradeoff was the somewhat frail psyche the Klyntar possessed and their tendency to be overwhelmed by an unstable host. The very thought that either he or Ro could spend the rest of their lives to the very moment of their deaths, whether that be mere minutes away in some sort of freak accident or thousands upon thousands of solar cycles into the future, unable to truly control their faculties simply due to a single life altering experience began to overwhelm him with the very feelings he hated so much. Vulture looked down at the container, depressingly aware of all of the times he had snuck off behind Centi’s back for no other reason than to just talk. Vulture had spent days at a time doing nothing more than spilling his feelings and emotions to Ro each time with the faintest hope that he could bring the poor creature back to some semblance of reality. Vulture stumbled towards the door they had all entered through, pressing himself up against it with mild force.

“I want out, I want to leave I waNT TO Get ouT” His voice trembled in distress. The door squeaked as it began to open, slightly slower than before likely due to having possibly been misaligned by Vulture’s push.   
”I want ouT NOW” Vulture spat as he pushed forward against the door that had only just begun to lower. The metal whined in distress as it began to warp from the force behind his pushes. Minax clutched the canister tightly in an effort to comfort and protect the oblivious being within as the tympanic membranes on his forearms and and calves flicked with the loud noises Vulture produced. Vulture pushed with increased intensity as the supposedly blast proof door gave way and exploded outwards into the hallway, scraping against the floor and causing an automatic alarm to begin sounding off. Centi scuttled towards Vulture as he barreled into the hallway and directly into the wall opposing the storage room entrance.   
”I can’t DO THIS I CAN’t I Can’t dO THIS” Vulture broke into a scream as he began to smash his massive head against the wall of the ship. The alarm continued to sound over and over as the metal wall began to give way to Vulture’s headbutts.   
”I CAN’T LIVE MY WHOLE LIFE LIKE THIS, I DON’T WANT TO BE BROKEN” he screamed in ever increasing distress as he brought his upper massive arms to his chest and scraped the black nails against his own body. The screams of his self mutilation were only compounded by the combination of both his host’s voice and the ‘true’ voice of Vulture’s actual Klyntar form.

Centi entered the hallway and turned back to Minax with a face that betrayed true panic. They threw up their hands and spelled out “B. E. S. A. F. E.” in a disorganized haste as they scuttled towards Vulture as quickly as they could. Centi had seen Vulture’s tantrums before, sometimes the onset was slower and more reasonable while other times…

Vulture scraped a chunk of their greyish blue ‘skin’ off revealing the slightest hint of the host’s body below. the symbiote screeched in its self inflicted pain as it continued tearing at itself, flailing its arms wildly and continuing aimlessly down the corridor in some sort of twisted attempt to put itself out of its own misery.   
”JuST leT ME DIE” Vulture cried as he severed one of his secondary arms, pulling the smaller and lighter appendage directly from its supra abdominal connection and throwing it carelessly to the ground. The secondary skin that covered the meat below melting away to leave nothing more than the now dead tissue of its once powerful host. Centi rushed along the hallway, following the trail of destruction around the somewhat small ship. They knew there were not a lot of places for Vulture to go and the orbit their ship had been left in was not the most sturdy place to be. Centi considered calling out to Vulture but knew their voice would be drowned out by whatever chaos was flooding through his mind.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Minax could not hear the destruction occurring across the ship, but could feel every second of it. With every shake they felt they clutched the canister closer. They had never met Ro, but knew nothing more at this moment than how much they wanted to protect him. The ship continued to shake as they considered what to do and where to go. The weakness they felt simply from carrying the canister increasingly apparent as they knew just how broken they actually were. Minax quickly looked around the storage room; there was nothing in particular they searched for but if there was even the slightest possibility of finding some sort of sedative or some disabling weapon that could cease the destruction occurring all around the one thing keep them all alive they had to try.

Minax clutched the cylinder as the extended a hand and pried open a nearby crate. The Nova Corp seal indicated the source of the property but there was no way for them to know what could be inside. The lid lifted with a mild hiss as the air pressure shifted between the box and environment around them, the crate now equalized to the room. Minax pushed the lid upwards and leaned forward to peak inside; at that very second the entirety of the ship shook loudly and Minax felt the air within their lungs pulled out faster than they could have even conceived. They dropped the canister to the floor with a thud, unintentionally allowing it to roll with the now shifting direction of the ship as the entirety of the structure began to tilt to one side. Minax could not even attempt to inhale, the weakness of their muscles from their recent near death experience combined with the cataclysmic introduction of negative pressure forcing them to come to the conclusion that the ship had somehow become depressurized. As if to accentuate such a thought, the Centurion transport’s power flickered on and off. The lights of the storage room dimmed as the entire structure began to vibrate and grow warm rather quickly. Minax felt their mind sink alongside their other’s into an incomparable pool of fear they had not felt in the entirety of either of their lives. The somewhat storage room now appeared to be where Minax would finally die. There was a single moment in time where Minax felt acceptance as they acknowledged the way that had cheated death just so many days before.

A wall of metal began raise from the exact place the storage room door had been when Vulture had torn it off. Minax could only assume it was some sort of failsafe in the event of depressurization. They watched as the room around them began to grow so hot that the inner walls of the room began to drip, the very metal they were made of melting before them. The metal of the secondary door sealed after what felt like an eternity and the room was re-pressurized; not a permanent solution but certainly the removal of an immediate problem. The liquid metal of the walls dripped over itself; Minax could only infer that the door had been made of some sort of higher quality metal when compared to the inner walls of the room they quickly saw becoming their tomb. The room’s vibrations began to intensify as the container Minax had begun to open slid to the edge of the room, just barely knocking the canister into a spin. Minax could not see Ro clearly within but the Klyntar did not appear to be in any more distress than before, likely not even aware of its likely imminent death. Minax’s tympanic organs reacted wildly and with growing discomfort that was only doubled by the heat their other shielded them from. Minax could feel their other weakening in its already diminished state, wanting nothing more than to allow its host to live even if that meant its own demise. Minax lost footing for a moment, nearly toppling over as the ship continued falling out of orbit and towards the planet they had been orbiting. They had no knowledge of what star system they had even travelled to, not that it mattered at the moment.

Minax felt a moment of peace; they realized what was happening around them and what they needed to do. Minax could feel their other tugging at the edges of their mind with as much force as they could muster as they struggled to maintain themselves against the growing intensity of the boiling room. Minax stumbled to the ground as the ship shook once more, possibly having hit something on its way down. Their weakened body now barely even supplemented by their partner. They pushed themselves forward, towards where Ro’s containment cylinder had landed. Minax could feel their partner’s mind teeter on the edge of consciousness as it began to whither away from the heat. Minax’s knees connected with the floor and their other instantly retreated, unable to protect themselves against the softening metal. The pain lasted only for a second as the intense heat burned through the entirety of any surface level pain receptors Minax had. They watched as the creature that had saved their life over and over and had become more meaningful than any other living creature within their hive fought for Minax’s survival against its own interests. Minax pushed themselves forward once more, the entirety of their left knee melting into the floor and severing the attached leg just as they extended their hand to the canister before them. Minax watched as Ro shifted with gravity, now mindlessly sitting at the bottom of the cylinder just as Minax began to twist the only part of the device that moved.

The canister opened easily.   
There was no goodbye, they both understood what was happening and what had to happen.   
There were no final words. There was no justice in what had to be done.  
Minax felt their carapace begin to melt inwards and their own internal fluids begin to boil as the only thing that had been protecting them oozed its yellow and black form into the only thing they surmised could protect them.  
Minax’s vision disappeared from one of their eyes, the organ oozing from the socket as it cooked against their face. They repeated the motion they had performed just seconds ago, sealing the container from the hazards surrounding them. Minax placed a hand against the translucent material of the container, their brain unable to process the fact that the heat had begun to fuse their appendage to the container just as their vision disappeared completely.   
What is death if not the absence of sensation. How does one know if they are alive if they cannot perceive their own existence any longer.   
The yellow and black ooze watched from within its makeshift shelter as it felt the connection between the two finally sever, two had one.

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Liz kicked their feet in the water, the surprisingly cool sensation providing a mild calming effect they so desperately craved. They sat just at the edge of the river as the water rushed by; the speed was not particularly intense but it was certainly not something most would want to attempt to swim in. They were not necessarily afraid of drowning in the river they had been to so many times before but still felt a mild unease each and every time they sat at the edge. The entire experience was a bit of a gamble; the water itself appeared so immaculately clean that they could see straight to the bottom, although it was difficult to judge just how far that would be due to the visual depth perception distortive effect caused by the moving water. They had swam in the river before but only when their mother had accompanied them and even then, only during summer. As if to accentuate the coolness of the air around them a breeze funneled itself through some nearby trees and pushed through Liz. The air smelled lightly of a damp mossy scent closely followed by an incredibly faint whiff unmistakably similar to a campfire.

The river was not particularly a secret but it was not very common to run into others, let alone find someone attempting to camp only four or five kilometers outside of town. Liz pulled their feet from the water and on to the rough grass they had been sitting on. They had not brought a towel with them and had no interest in drying their legs on their favorite sweater, a bright golden-yellow hoodie about two sizes larger than they actually needed. Liz grasped their shoes and pulled the crumpled socks out of each of them before placing them in their left pocket. They quickly pulled the shoes over each foot and stood up, a brief wave of lightheadedness paired with a dimming of their vision and black spots before returning to normal within seconds. Liz smelled the air again, this time more intently. Partially out of curiosity and partially out of precaution on whether they should start returning home. The thought of heading back to their parents was displeasing. Liz didn’t hate their parents, at least one of them; However they absolutely did not get along well. For the majority of their earlier life they had always believed it was normal to be treated the way they were by their parents, it wasn’t until they had started developing more trustful and long term relationships with those they had called friends that they learned what a truly healthy and loving relationship could be like. They had been through a few missteps, trusting some people just a little too much and letting some of the wrong people in just a little too quickly, but it was all a learning process.

Liz slid their right hand up their left sleeve, briefly brushing over a few ridges on both the underside and upper forearm just before the elbow. These particular scars had healed years ago but they were certainly not forgotten; an unfortunate side effect of the abuse they had bottled up and never learned to properly cope with. There’s just something about spending the entire decade prior to turning fifteen years old watching the man who calls himself a father physically assault the only person who has ever even attempted to show what could be conceived as love that will leave some real emotional damage. Liz smelled the unmistakable scent of ash and burning wood once more, thankfully being pulled back to reality and away from the cyclical black hole of nightmarish memories. They pulled their hand out of their sleeve and blinked hard, registering just now that they had been staring aimlessly at nothing in particular while scratching their arm with mild intensity. The skin stung and there was little doubt it would appear a deep red if examined but Liz ignored it; They ignored it, having promised themself they would not intentionally harm themself any longer and counting every single day they worked through. Liz felt a half smile push itself to the surface for no longer than a moment as they could not help but feel proud of how far they’d come and just how long two hundred and sixty five days actually was.

Liz took one quick look back at the rushing water and then back towards the forest. The tree line did not betray any sort of source of smoke or natural disaster and they could not hear anything resembling emergency sirens that would indicate true danger. They felt their curiosity pique at the bizarreness of the whole thing while also combining with their subconscious want to spend as long as they could away from their home.

The semi-clearly defined footpath that lead back towards their home sat adjacent to the edge of the forest. The path traveled alongside the trees for a few kilometers before giving way to the more industrialized areas of the small Ukrainian town they lived in. The grass nearby the river quickly gave way to a dirt path and then back to grass once more. Liz moved past the path, crossing its worn orange-brown dirt and into the beginnings of the forest. They squeezed through the trees, only a few rather tight to one another while the majority appeared almost uniform in distance to one another. As if mother nature had found the exact pattern needed to most efficiently provide its offspring with necessary exposure to sunlight and nutrients while also not stealing from others around them. At first the ashy scent came in infrequent waves, but as Liz continued forward the smells grew stronger. Whatever was ahead was not very far away. The air itself began to grow warmer, not enough to worry Liz of a fire of some sort but certainly enough for them to remove their sweater. The yellow clothing pulled over their head easily and they haphazardly folded it into a ball to carry. Liz realized they now could not smell anything _but_ the burned wood, finally taking note of the occasional scorch mark of a tree. All of the scorching faced in one direction, as if they were approaching the epicenter of some sort of fiery blast zone.

Liz couldn’t help but feel mildly confused, how could these trees be so badly burned if there was no explosion. If something had blown up, emergency services would have been here in moments. Liz instinctively brushed a hand to their head, the back of which now held a few droplets of sweat. They hadn’t even noticed how hot it had gotten and took the time to quickly tie the sweater they had been poorly holding around their waist in order to free up both hands just in case they needed them. Liz covered their nose and mouth with a hand as they breathed, now seeing ash particles float in the air and a grey snow like layer evenly coating the forest ground. They slowed their walk as a few fresh embers floated by. There was no sound, at least not anything louder than the natural fluttering of tree branches and leaves in the wind. Liz squeezed between two malformed trees that had likely been damaged by whatever lay in front of them.

Liz felt a burst of confusion, surprise, fear, and excitement all at once. Scattered metal was strewn about the ground, partially covered by the still falling ash. They quickly approached the nearest hunk of metal and carefully kicked it over. The metal flipped over easily, apparently not weighing very much. Liz quickly deduced that the object must still be incredibly hot as in the less than one second minute contact between the tip of their shoe and the metal itself, the smell of burnt rubber wafted into their nostrils. They coughed at the disgusting scent and moved onwards. They took note of the largest piece that was loosely in the center of the whole event and began walking towards that. Liz surveyed the object quickly, it appeared to be maybe half of some sort of room. They quickly questioned if it could possibly be some sort of crashed and partially destroyed experimental Quinjet. They had never seen one up close in person but S.H.I.E.L.D. had come to clean up after some of the more destructive incidents in the past when Latveria had attempted to extend its borders in a less than polite manner. Liz circled the construct and found what they could only assume was some sort of door. The room must have been on its side because the remains of some sort of security panel was just above their head and appeared to be sideways. Liz pressed their shoe to the mysterious room before instantly pulling away and sniffing the air. Thankfully the scent of burning rubber did not fill their nostrils once more. They attempted to do so once more, this time keeping the base of their foot up against the material for a longer period of time. They pulled their leg away and crossed it against their knee in a standing position, briefly touching the sole of the shoe to gauge the temperature. It was cool to the touch. Against better instincts they hovered their hand less than a centimeter to the whole thing before finally deciding it was the only way to know. They touched a finger before pulling away. No burning flesh, no intense pain… just, normal. Liz pressed their palm to the metal and did not even flinch. The entire thing felt cool to the touch, even cooler than the air itself, as if some sort of safety mechanism or external force had cooled the whole thing. They shrugged and placed their hand over the lip of where the door began.

Liz scrambled up the wall as best they could, the friction of the shoes against the metal giving the briefest moment of support and allowing them to pull themself upwards. As if sensing whatever danger had caused the event to happen was now over, the door instantly opened just as Liz had come face to face with it. The ‘whoosh’ of the metal startled them and they felt gravity betray them as they fell forward. The fall itself was not particularly long, but falling about a meter and a half without warning and landing belly down on a mysterious metal of some sort was enough to knock the wind out of anyone. Liz coughed loudly and rolled on to their back in an effort to recover even the slightest bit of oxygen into their lungs. They coughed twice before finally sitting up and pushing themself to their feet. The open door they had come through provided a meager amount of light, but certainly not enough to see clearly. Liz reached into their pocket and pulled out a somewhat older second generation Rand Industries cell phone. They pressed a finger to the small circular button at the bottom of the rounded rectangle, having turned it off in order to avoid any sort of interruptions from their parental figures upon leaving the apartment earlier. The Rand logo displayed itself brightly, a rather plain R in a clean white with a thin circle around the whole thing. The log itself was outdated, the company having rebranded probably twice over the years. The phone dinged as it finished its bootup sequence and Liz swiped through the rather unfriendly user interface and clicked a small picture of a flashlight. The entire screen turned a bright white, this phone having been before actual LED’s were implemented into the structure.

Liz looked around the room, surprised to find it rather empty. A medium sized crate with an open lid sat on its side in the corner, a few smaller boxes sat scattered around in various positions, and some sort of transparent cylinder with a metallic top and bottom sat in a small pile of glass shards. Liz scanned the walls of the structure, staring at what was supposed to be the floor of the overturned room. Nearly in the very center was the one thing that stood out. A partially melted body of some sort appeared completely blackened. Somehow it had been subjected to such an intense heat that whatever had once been a living creature was now nothing more than a silhouette. Liz stared for an uncomfortably long amount of time at the remnants of the body. There were no discernable features left except the vague outline of what they could only assume were arms, legs, a torso, and a head. The proportions felt… off, as if whatever had died there was not human anymore, or never had been. Liz felt a mild discomfort, knowing the few experiences their planet had with extraterrestrial visitors and the incidents that followed. Whatever it was, it was dead now. They lingered on it for a moment longer before deciding to look within the only opened container in the room. Liz heard the glass crunch beneath their feet as they stepped around the canister. Some sort of greenish-cyan and black liquid sat in the remnants of the container, it appeared viscous but Liz thought nothing of it. They carefully touched the lid of the chest before them and lifted. It required little to no effort and opened without resistance. Liz leaned over the edge, just barely tall enough to see within. Nothing of incredible note seemed to be inside except for a few handheld sized tablets; each a circular glass screen about the size of Liz’s head. Most appeared cracked or broken altogether but there were certainly a few that had survived unscathed. Liz reached in and grasped one, pulling it out and examining it curiously. The backside had a logo that seemed vaguely familiar, one of the American heroes had appeared on television with it on his helmet. Liz passively thought about the name for a moment, there were so many costumed people across the globe. The logo itself appeared similar to a star perhaps, the entirety was a deep red, a sort of three pronged star shape in the center with the bottom point significantly shorter than the left, right, and top ones; A red pointed cross in the center perpendicular to the longer points of the top, left, and middle.

Liz debated whether or not to take the tablet with them, they had no idea what it was or what it did and had no interest in some sort of bizarre government agency showing up at their front door to make them disappear forever. They decided on the smarter option and placed the tablet back into the crate, turning around and surveying one last time to see if there was anything else worth examining. Liz looked back towards the broken canister the colorful fluid within. The ooze’s colors moved ever so slightly, possibly due to the shifting light or possibly due to the mysterious makeup of whatever was inside. Liz brushed some glass away with their feet and dropped into a squatting position. They squinted and shined the light directly on the fluid, quickly considering poking with whatever they could find. Liz looked around quickly before picking up a finger length glass shard and bringing it just up next to the goo. They pushed the tip of the shard into the fluid which gave way in a somewhat bizarre manner, almost reflexive it seemed. Liz couldn’t tell if the glass had separated it or if the ooze itself and moved away. Liz watched closely as a noticeable deviation in the green and black colors slunk to the surface. A single opaque white patch, no larger than a finer nail floated around the ooze. Liz tilted their head in interest.   
”Привіт маленький, ти що?” Liz muttered partially to themself.   
As if to respond, the white patch gained a more defined shape as the ooze began to form into some sort of snake like head. It quickly became apparent to Liz that the white patch was actually some sort of eye, and the ooze was some sort of sentient creature. The now partially formed head opened what could only be described as a mouth and made some sort of gurgling wet noise before collapsing back into itself.

Liz yelped and fell backwards from their squatting position and right on to their ass. They screamed in surprise and panic, not knowing what they had just seen but now immediately wanting nothing more than to go home and hide under their bed until some semblance of safety returned. Liz scrambled in the small pile of glass they had landed in, pressing their palms into the glass against the floor as they tried to stand. Liz felt the loosely tied sweater finally come undone just as they jumped to their feet. The green and black ooze remained motionless once more and Liz quickly placed their phone in their pocket and reached out to grab their clothing. They held the yellow sweater to their chest tightly, the material peculiarly damp to the touch. Liz once again threw it around their waist and tied the now wet feeling sleeves together. They scrambled towards the door they had entered through, feeling an unprompted urge to shiver as a wave of a cold sensation passed over them. Liz reached up and grasped the lip of the open door, desperately wanting to leave. The natural light had dimmed over the short time they had spent inside, the sunset approaching rather quickly it seemed. Liz attempted to pull themself up and over the edge, feeling the instant fearful drop in their stomach as what must have been a trick of the light made them think they saw what could only be described as yellowed skin with black veins be right where their oh so human arms were supposed to be. Liz blinked hard and whined in stress as they pulled even harder, finally throwing themself over the edge and onto the ashy forest ground. Liz threw their hands in front of their face, quickly scanning the skin for imperfections and seeing nothing but a few familiar pale discolored lines and the occasional freckle. Liz looked around in a panic and attempted to retrace their steps; ready to head home and put the whole experience into the ever growing mental filing cabinet of emotional trauma.

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Liz stared into the never ending pages of their textbook. They tapped their nails against the aged wooden desk they sat at and absentmindedly pet a small clay blob they had yet to shape into anything worthy of being cooked and painted. Liz looked over to their nearly filled notebook, each page covered in complicated chemical equations, the occasional doodle, and dozens of metals off of the periodic table paired in various combinations. It had only been three or so days since visiting the bizarre partially destroyed room from the forest but it had been on Liz’s mind nonstop since then. They felt a desperate need to know what that goo was, but not enough to go back.

Liz closed the textbook, and their notebook. They placed the notes just on top, the word ‘порошкова металургія’ {powder metallurgy} written on top in clean permanent marker. Liz stood up from their worn desk chair which creaked in relief. They would not consider themself overweight by any means; at about 1.65 meters and 72 kilos there was no reason anything should have trouble with their size. A voice called from the other side of the door, their mother. The voice was not angry, and did not sound as if it was distressed by any means; but Liz was usually only called when their mother needed something that they couldn’t do.   
”Ліза, прочитайте це для мене” {Lisa, read this for me} The woman called. It was not a question, but rather a statement… a command. Liz was the only one in their family that was capable of reading English, along with a whole host of other languages like Russian, German, or even a little bit of the Sokovian dialect.   
Liz was constantly asked by their parents to do easy tasks just as simple as reading a newspaper headline or a product’s name; things that could instantly be looked up with a phone. Unfortunately their parents felt that it was more convenient for them to ask their child at every instance, appearing polite at first but always seconds away from an argument. Liz did not hate their full name, but much preferred one of their few nicknames. Their parents did not respect their identity and it stung a little whenever their mother or father called them their _daughter_. It was never done out of hatred, just simply more so that their parents claimed they ‘didn’t believe in that sort of thing’; it always felt more like a lack of respect than anything else. Liz sighed and walked to the door, they twisted the stained faux brass handle and pulled.

There was significantly less ash scattered across the forest ground now, the previous few days likely eroding the layers with small gusts of wind. Liz felt their stomach drop; they looked around quickly, whipping their head in every conceivable direction. They had no idea what had happened, quickly looking behind them for the door they had just stepped through… but there was no door. Liz looked down, they weren’t even wearing the same clothes as before. They had on their giant yellow sweater but it appeared slightly different. The very center of the yellow article of clothing now held a large black logo of some kind. Even the golden yellow of the hoodie seemed slightly different, fresher even. As if years of wear and tear had been replaced with an entirely new jacket. Liz reached into their pocket and pulled their phone with the intention of using the frontal camera to get a better view of what they were wearing. They swiped through the applications and confusing interface until they clicked a button that opened a screen showing their face. Their hair appeared the same as always, shoulder length and a rather light brown. Their soft face framed symmetrically by the way they parted their hair, a small scar just unnoticeable to almost anyone who didn’t know to look for it. They tilted the phone downwards and finally saw the chest of the hoodie. The golden yellow material glistened brightly in the weak sunlight, a black logo sat dead center and spread outwards ever so slightly. The logo could be visually divided into an upper and lower half. The lower half seemed comparable to the silhouette of a horseshoe crab while the top somewhat reminiscent of an arrowhead. The confusion continued to mount on itself when Liz finally managed to take note of the date; it had been two whole days since they had last been at home. Two whole days of lost time in an instant.

Their heart started to pump quicker and quicker, their breath felt hot as they exhaled. Liz forced themself to think back as hard as possible but could only recall the moments prior to opening the door. They surveyed the area and realized with certainty that they were in fact back in the forest where they had been almost a week ago at this point. The forest around them had settled, no more warmth in the air, no more embers floating by. Liz shuddered in concern and decided to do the only thing they knew they could. They began to walk back home, desperately hoping that whatever had happened during the missing time could be explained by their parents. Liz reached the tree line where a few partially scorched trees had already begun to heal. Just as they attempted to push between the two they felt a peculiar muscular twitch. They stopped and patted their calf right where it had twitched. They attempted to step forward again but felt a pull away, as if a puppeteer had placed strings on their body. They felt the beginnings of a panic settle in as their breath felt warm once more. They felt themself begin to breathe faster in fear just as some sort of exterior force seemingly took control of their body. A peculiar craving that they had never really had before immediately forced itself to the forefront of their mind and they knew nothing but how much they wanted it in this moment. Their brain placed the word ‘pollen’ over and over in their thoughts as they started drooling.

Liz clutched their head with both hands as an explosive headache reared itself into full attention. They whined loudly in pain as they collapsed to their knees. The headache moved around their brain, as if someone was dragging a finger between every groove of the meat within. They felt millions of neurons fire as images, sights, smells, and experiences they had never lived through filled their mind. They couldn’t bring themself to speak but knew these were not their memories. Liz grew nauseous and gagged, the retching not producing anything more than small glob of a wet waxy substance. They spit it to the ground as they headache dulled to a significantly milder pain. Liz felt what they could only compare to another mind paired alongside their own. It did not speak, and it did not feel hostile. It felt… sad. The mind practically glowed with a sadness Liz felt they had experienced dozens of times before. It was indirect at first, but as more and more memories settled into their skull they began to understand. Liz felt a moment of recognition as the charred remains that had been melted into the wall of that room had finally been given a face and a life.   
”Minax” they spoke in a language not of earth, a name that was never meant to be spoken aloud.   
”Я розумію” {I understand} Liz said, speaking to the other entity that had taken up residence in their mind.

The other mind remained silent. Liz was unsure if this was due to it having never experienced speech or if it was trapped in a cycle of mourning and loss. Liz knew they did not have the entire picture but they knew enough to have a general idea. They knew they now shared a body with a creature that considered itself half of an entity once known as Minax. They knew they had sacrificed themself to save the one they loved; And they knew that Liz was the only reason they were alive now.   
”Я захищатиму вас Мінакс.” {I will protect you Minax.} Liz muttered to the one they now felt a need to protect.   
An innocent that had been dealt a terrible hand of fate. Liz dug around their own mind as best as they could, going over the memories that had been introduced and trying to divide their own from their other half. Liz couldn’t help but feel a connection to the Klyntar. The word felt strange in their mind, a species they had not know existed only two minutes before. Liz felt a need to protect Minax, both physically and emotionally. Liz understood what the creature wanted, but knew that it could not communicate with them in any way they could really understand as of yet.

Liz felt the sweater constrict around their body, some sort of thanks perhaps. Liz heard no words but did feel an emotional communication with the alien they had now found themself paired to. It was a _hug_. Liz smiled and began to walk towards the remnants of the Xandarian ship. Another word they had just learned. The door was still opened from their venture a few days prior. Liz reached up to the lip of the entrance just as before, feeling bent metal that hadn’t been there on their first time in. They pulled themself all the way up and quickly glanced at the distortion, it appeared to be contoured to their fingers; they must have somehow bent the metal on the way out last time… Having just bonded to the Klyntar, their mind put together quickly. Liz looked down, the meter and a half drop seeming infinitely less threatening this time around. They threw themself forward-

Liz looked around at the night sky. The stars were stunningly bright, more so than usual. The normally black emptiness of the night air now practically glowing a particular blue. Liz felt their stomach drop as they gasped. They remembered the ship, they remembered entering the ship…   
Liz quickly put together that they had lost time again. Minax must have taken some sort of control. The name felt warm when they thought of it. There was an uncertainty as to who’s emotions were who’s but Liz knew one of them felt more strongly about the alien bee than the other.

Liz took in their surroundings and finally understood where they were. There was a moment of raw unadulterated fear as they looked down and realized they were dozens, if not at least a hundred meters in the air. There were not a lot of tall buildings where they lived but this was apparently one of them. Liz cautiously stepped away from the edge and more towards the center of the rooftop. The building was clearly not meant to be stood on by anyone as it was rather rounded overall. Balance did not seem to be an issue as Liz heard a quiet _crunch_ with each step. They looked down and almost yelped at the sight. Their legs appeared to be a deep and empty black with two massive talons substituting for their toes in front. They had no idea how their anatomy had changed so drastically but the flat front half of their feet was balanced with a third talon in on the posterior of where their ankle would have been. Instead, they appeared to have fully digitigrade legs. Further up past the equivalent of their heel was their new calf. The black skin like substance fanned out with a yellow fin on either leg and small black feather-like extensions every few centimeters. Liz’s human mind felt a concern and confusion but in an instant they understood what the entirely new organ was and how it functioned. The black of their legs continued all the way to the very edges of their thighs in front and all the way but the axillaries, before giving way to the golden-yellow color of the sweater they had worn what they thought was just moments ago. They looked straight down at their chest and took note of the logo they had seen on what they had thought was their sweater, finally understanding that it was the equivalent of the natural carapace markings of Minax’s previous host… Minax. Liz extended their arms in the darkness, yet could see the entirely black forearms and each of their talon like fingers perfectly. Liz could still hear the cars honk below, but could also… _feel_ them. The very sounds everything around them produced seem to register across the new tympanic organs on their forearms and calves just before their enhanced hearing could pick it up. Even their vision seemed to be some sort of blend between the visual light spectrum and ultraviolet light. Liz could just barely process everything happening around them.

They brought their hands to their face and gracefully touched the antennae just above the eye lenses their other had created over their own. Liz smiled. A whole host of emotions washed over them; was this a dream, were they dead, were they dying, was this alien _thing_ taking over their body. They had no answers to the questions they asked, but they felt as if they already knew. Liz peered over the edge of the building once more, the fear that had once permeated their life now buried beneath the budding sensation of love and protection.   
”Я знаю, що не можу їх замінити, але я думаю, що ми можемо щось побудувати разом.” {I know I can't replace them, but I think we can build something together.} Liz spoke, this time directly addressing their other.   
The alien did not answer, at least not verbally, but Liz knew. They knew that Minax could have used their body to find anyone else they wanted, but they stayed. They had a lot to work on, a relationship to build, and memories to create. Respect is something to be earned, not given; but they both sensed they had already begun the process. Liz stood even footed at the edge of the massive building, and leaned forward. The cool air rushed by as the wind whipped around their body. The pair known as Minax opened their massive golden wings, catching the updraft with ease and soared into the air. 

They flapped their wings, pushing themselves through the sky with an obvious lack of grace. Flying was still a skill that would need to be practiced. Minax lifted their head and looked forward towards the horizon. Liz smiled beneath their second face. A smile that quickly faded into an open mouth gape. They sunk through the air as they quickly remembered to flap, a light on the horizon began to grow brighter and brighter. For a sole second Liz considered it may be the sun, however they knew it was the middle of the night and that would be impossible. They brought their arm up to shield their eyes as the light grew and grew. A gust of hot air blasted into them face first, throwing any semblance of controlled flight they had into disarray. They fell from the sky, attempting to flap their way into at least a glide. Minax shut their eyes as hard as they could as the light grew unbearably bright and all encompassing, finally passing over them with a discomforting high pitched whirring. Liz coughed wildly and could have sworn they heard some sort of voice say something. They did not hear it clearly, and it was not loud enough to make out; but the voice itself felt… sinister. Whatever it had said was enough for Minax to suddenly feel very cold, with a pit of unfamiliar existential terror folding back in on itself before disappearing into nothingness.

Minax opened their eyes, they flapped awkwardly and gazed around their surroundings. Nothing appeared different and they still had all of their limbs and body parts. They had no idea what had happened and saw no sight of the mysterious white wall of light. Both minds agreed that they were done for the night and began to fly their way back towards their home, ready to build a life together.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual I hope the text uploaded correctly and if you spot any corrections or clarifications needed I am happy to do so.  
> Thank You


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